Fire
by the lola
Summary: 'His thoughts are chaotic, buzzing, fighting one another to be heard. Eyes flit over to the space of wall next to the bathroom door that bears a head-sized hole, and he slams his fist on the counter. No. The man starts to pace as he tries to bring his thoughts into line. He made a mistake. He needs Neville, and to admit this to himself almost makes his soul shake.'


**Word Count: 963**

 **Warnings:** Depictions of self-harm.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't claim to own Harry Potter, it's all JKR's

* * *

Water splashes against his burning face. Blaise grits his teeth, again filling his cupped palms with water, and splashing. Taking a jagged deep breath, he stops and looks to his reflection.

He winces, he can barely look. His fists ball up as the fire inside of him spreads, as it always does - begins in his face, but before he knows it his entire body is up in flames.

 _Rage_.

Try as he might, he cannot feel anything else. Ever since the war, since _him,_ this insatiable fury has found its home within Blaise.

Fingernails dig into palms. He is so royally fucked up by this point that the pain barely registers. His thoughts are chaotic, buzzing, fighting one another to be heard. Eyes flit over to the space of wall next to the bathroom door that bears a head-sized hole, and he slams his fist on the counter. No.

The man starts to pace as he tries to bring his thoughts into line. He _needs_ Neville, and to admit this to himself almost makes his soul shake. This is not who he is.

 _Weak_.

 _Pathetic_.

He is Blaise Zabini, and the only person he needs is himself.

If only that were true. _Fuck,_ his scream echoes around the empty house. He needs to destroy something. His anger is threatening to bubble over, as thoughts of _NevilleNevilleNevilleNeville_ reverberate around his skull.

The truth is that he can't cope. Clinging to his own sanity, the icy claws are prying his fingers off of the edge one by one.

The light glinting from a mirror fixed on the wall is maddening. Control is gone. He turns around, swinging both of his fists toward the mirror, smashing. Shards fly, blood drips.

The rage does not leave. The icy claws of sanity pry another finger off of that edge. There is just one left.

'Blaise! What are you doing?' Neville rushes into the room, eyes wide with panic, grabbing for the other man.

Blaise sees him and as Neville takes his hands, he desperately fights the urge to lash out. 'Why are you here?' he replies, through gritted teeth.

'I know how you can get. So wrapped up in yourself and your anger. I wanted to check on you - I told you I would.' He tries to lead Blaise toward the sink, but he whips his hands away forcefully.

The fury is suddenly only simmering, the fire seems to be dying. All Blaise wants is to slump into the other man. 'I need you to forgive me,' he demands.

Neville is now close enough to notice the stench of alcohol coming from the other man. 'You have been drinking. You need to calm down. Please, let's sort out your hands,' he begs, locking eyes with the other man.

He has no willpower or fight left, and simply nods. The feel of Neville's warm hands on his sends sparks under his skin, and it soothes him. They stand together in silence as his hands are washed and healed. Closing his stinging eyes, he finally takes a smooth breath.

'You know, things can't be like this,' Neville says softly, after minutes of heavy silence.

And he does know. But he doesn't think he can take any other alternative. Neville is somehow able to see Blaise for who he really is and nothing else. There can be no faking, no bravado, no arrogance with Neville. He knows the deep dark creeks of Blaise's soul, and it is maddening.

Yet somehow, intoxicating.

'I can't be without you, but I can't be with you,' Blaise replies, willing his fire inside to stay dormant.

The other man sighs, and takes a step closer, leaving a mere inch between the two of them. 'Don't do this to yourself.'

Blaise is making mistake, and he knows it. But he sees how Neville looks at him - like he is transparent - and it makes him wince. 'Me and you are wrong. Complete opposites. I can't be getting myself wrapped up in this - I have responsibilities!' he says, raising his voice, now thick with tears.

They are so close, Neville is tempted to just close the distance. That always solves everything for at least one night. His heart aches. 'That is not true and you know it. You can fight it and be angry about it and destroy everything around you, but I will always be your home and you will always be mine. However unlikely, this is meant to be.'

A stray tear falls from Blaise's eye. He is left feeling as though the wind has been knocked out of him. It is true - it is all so true. There is only so long he can fight. He is exhausted. He is furious. He is near insanity. He just wants to disappear.

'Blaise.'

He is shaken from his thoughts and looks straight into the other man's hazel eyes. 'Help me,' he replies shakily, reaching for Neville with trembling hands. 'I am so angry.'

Neville pulls Blaise into an embrace, and it feels as though everything has fallen into place, though it always does. 'I am not here for a one night stand. I am here to stay or I am gone forever. I will help you if you will accept it. We both have demons to overcome.'

Understanding what the other man is saying, Blaise nods. Just one night is so much easier, they can be _NevilleandBlaiseNevilleandBlaise_. Just the two of them, in fantasy land. But he won't survive if he carries on this way, smashing up every corner of his house and destroying every corner of his mind. Still, the magnitude of the decision weighs on him.

'Okay,' he pauses, 'just hold me.'


End file.
